Fates intertwined
by Silverfeather613
Summary: Murtagh is traveling to the Varden with Eragon. He meets Aariana, the woman of his dreams. As their story progresses, they meet complications in their relationship. When Murtagh starts to work with Galbatorix, can they to find a way to be true to each other, even though they are on opposite sides of the war? And what happens after Eragon leaves? Only Aariana belongs to me. So far.


There was Eragon, the elven girl,and I. We were a motley crew. I would keep Eragon alive, find us food, keep us on course, and generally, was the only thing that kept us working and alive. Eragon did help some, I guess. And, well, the elven girl, she did not help one bit. She was unconscious the entire time. As you can probably see, people who are unconscious don't keep you alive, on course and get food on the table. So, yeah, we were lugging around a girl who was pretty much useless. Well, this is the story about how we got our third conscious member.

* * *

We were camped in a forest. I was hunched over the fire, cooking a deer that I had just cleaned. Eragon was sitting down on a log, worrying with his bow string. His dragon was laying down nearby, at the edge of the camp, watching for any Urgals or people who want to kill us. But even though I knew that the dragon had better senses than me, I still didn't trust her. Eragon told me it was a her, named Saphira. But, back to the story.

"Eragon?" I called.

"Hmm?" he answered.

"Do you think, we're being followed?" This time, I caught his attention. He stopped and just looked at me.

"Why? Do you?"

"Well,yeah. For several days now. I told you last night, and the night before that, and before that, and before "

"I wasn't listening." He said sheepishly. I blew a strand of hair out of my eyes and glared at him.

" Then listen! Do you want to move camp or not?"

Eragon conversed with Saphira, then shook his head. "No, Saphira said she didn't sense anyone. And she said that if it didn't attack us last night, it won't tonight."

"Well," I said, crossing my arms, "If we all wake up, our throats slit, a knife in our chest, and someone looting our camp, you can blame it on the dragon." I stomped back over to the fire, to finish cooking our deer.

I laid down to sleep,after my watch had ended. Saphira was on duty, looking around in the forest. I closed my eyes, and drifted into a deep sleep.

I woke up to a strange feeling. A cool hand in my shirt, slipping down my back. My eyes widened, but I didn't move. Its not every day a looter comes and decides to run his hand down his victim's back. Unless he knew my money pouch was there.

I heard the sound of a sword being drawn from it's sheath. In that second, I whirled around, grabbed the arm that was attached to the hand, and yelled "ERAGON!"

The looter was wearing a cloak to hide his features, but I looked at the arm. It was well muscled, like he was a swordsman. But then I saw the hand. It was thin, and delicate. The looter was a girl. She kicked me in the gut. I didn't budge, despite the pain.

Eragon shot up, Za'roc in his hand. He saw the looter I had grabbed and looked around for more. I pulled the looter to my chest, and pinned her there. Slowly, with one hand, I pushed back her hood.

There, under that dark hood, was a beautiful girl. She had sea blue eyes, copper hair, and a pretty face, which was now distorted by her fury at being caught. She saw Eragon, and her face relaxed.

I looked at her in shock. "Eka fricai." she said. Eragon's face softened.

"Murtagh,let her go."

"What!? No! I'm not going to let her go." I said. Sometimes Eragon can be a complete fool.

"It's all right. She won't run." said Eragon. I let her go. She took several scrambling steps back. " You know, if you're still mad at me, you can challenge me to a duel." she said, pushing her cloak aside to reveal a sword.

" We're not still angry at you." said Eragon, giving me a glance.

"Well, I am." I said, rubbing the spot on my stomach where she had kicked me. She raised her her eyebrow. Eragon glared at me as if to say _Murtagh,you can't duel a girl._ I didn't care.

"You want to duel?" she said in a smug voice.

"I would want one, but you probably can't lift a real sword. And I would hate to hurt a pretty little girl such as yourself." I said, in a snide tone. All she did, quick as a flash, drew my sword, twirled

it in her fingers, at trick Tornac used to do, I never learned it, and handed the sword to me."On three. One, two, three!" She flew at me. I parried. She jumped on my shoulders and stood there for a second, then jumped off. She danced around me, throwing moves at me. She was hypnotic.

We,well, mostly she, moved like we were was dancing, like we had practiced this a hundred times. She knew exactly where I was going to be. Time slowed down. I watched her fly around me, her long hair glowing like fire in the light of the dieing coals. Her eyes flashed as our swords connected. Her gaze met mine, and she smiled. My stupid heart skipped a beat, and she took the chance. She lifted her sword, and tapped me on the neck softly. She grabbed my collar and pulled me close. "Dead." she whispered in my ear. Then, she spun me around, and kissed me. Not a kiss on the cheek, but on my lips. She held me there a second or two, the let me go.

I turned red with embarrassment. I could feel Eragon staring at us. The girl smiled at me, smugly. She had made fun of me. She had prolonged the fight, at kissed me to mock me. Then her face softened, and she whispered "Sorry, can't help but tease." to me. I walked away.

I sulked in the darkest corner of the camp, tending my wounds in silence. After a few minutes, Eragon walked over and sat down next to me.

"What?" I grunted, not in the mood to be bothered.

"Murtagh, I think we should take her with us." said Eragon, fiddling with the hem of his dingy tunic. I stared at him in disbelief.

"What?! No! Out of the question, no way. We don't need her, or anything" At first, I was yelling, but I changed to a harsh whisper. "What benefit will it bring us?"

"Murtagh, not to offend your expertise, but we need a more, uh, intimate, guide."

"No, we don't. We are getting along just fine." I said. Eragon, I guess, won't be pleased with one of the best. And he's probably making up excuses, he's trying to bring her with her because she's hot. I glanced at her. She was staring at Saphira like she was the most amazing thing in the world, which she probably was.

"And your cooking isn't fantastic." He mumbled. I was astonished, aghast, taken aback, and mad. What did Eragon think he was saying?!

" I have great cooking!" I yelled, not caring if the girl heard me.

"Don't get me wrong, your cooking is fine, just that hers is probably better. Being a girl and all." I glowered at Eragon. "And don't worry, if she gets to be too much, we can dump her on the side of the road somewhere. Saphira agrees with me." He added for insurance. You can't argue with a dragon. I grumbled and groaned, but in the end, Eragon and Saphira won. We didn't need her but, we were bringing her anyway. Darn. Oh well, if worst came to worst, we could ditch her. Eragon walked over to the girl. I followed.

" Uh, sorry that we, er, Murtagh, got off to a bad start." said Eragon, being overly, I don't know, gushy, to her. He kept his eyes locked on her, kept pushing back his hair, and licking his lips. "I'm Eragon, the only Dragon Rider alive. This is Saphira, my dragon. She's the last of her kind. And this," he said motioning to me, "This is Murtagh." He said my name as if he was proclaiming that he had just seen a squirrel in a tree. Very flatly. I glared at Eragon. He and his dragon were oh-so high and mighty, I was of no importance. He failed to mention that I was the only reason he was alive. How I fed him, and had his back. He was still here, because of me! But he waved me off as if I was no more than a servant. This would not do. This would not do at all. This girl would have to go. She may be pretty; OK, that may be understating it, hot and gorgeous, but she would be trouble.

She gave both of us a wary eye,but didn't move. "What is the reason of telling me this?" she asked.

"Well, we are going to ask you this: Do you want to come with us?" said Eragon. Saphira looked over his shoulder. I just stayed in the background, silent. But then, I noticed that she was looking past Eragon and Saphira, and straight at me. Those blue green eyes ran themselves over me, studying every detail, tracing me until I felt like I would explode.

"Where are you going?" She asked, but to me, not Eragon. Eragon answered for me.

" The Varden. We're going to the Varden." He said. She looked at him. After a few moments of silence from both our parties, she said:

" Yes. I needed something to do. My name is Aariana. I'm sorry for trying to loot your camp."

I broke in. "Well, seeing that we're all awake and going not back to sleep, we should get on the road." I bent down and gathered up all our things, and began to stuff them into the saddlebags. We got on with our day.

* * *

As we traveled, against my better judgment, I started to warm up to Aariana. Everyone did, Eragon, Saphira, the horses. She was smart, witty, kind, gentle, friendly, and her tongue matched the speed of her sword. She was full of riddles, and very fun to talk to. A simple question could easily turn into a few minutes of solving the answer, or you could end up with no answer at all. But, I struggled to keep control of myself. I didn't want to get too chummy with her. But, ah,well, for the time being, it would be all right.

"So, where are you from?" asked Eragon. I gave him a side-long glance. He should know already, a lot of people, including me, would like to keep their past to themselves, thank you very much. She looked at Eragon.

"I already told you. I'm from Alagäesia." Aariana then occupied herself fixing the straps on her horse's saddle. Eragon looked miffed, and studied her. Then he gasped, and pointed. I looked. I also stifled a yelp. Her ears were strangely familiar. Where had I seen those ears before? Then, it struck me. The elven girl, she had had pointed ears, just like Aariana. But Aariana's ears were less pointed, her eyes weren't slanted, and her nose wasn't long like the elf's.

"Her ears!?" breathed Eragon. _Oh,Eragon. Will you ever just keep your mouth shut?_ I thought. Aariana swiveled to look at us.

"Yes, my ears are pointed. I'm half elf. And I kinda wish they weren't. They've caused me a lot of trouble in my life. But, then again, a daughter doesn't choose her father."

"What kind of trouble?" asked Eragon. I glared at him. Didn't he see that he was making her feel uncomfortable?

"Oh, just the usual kind." Aariana answered. Luckily, we need to bed down soon, so we could end this conversation before either parties got too mad.

"Well, we need to camp, so keep you eyes peeled for a good spot to stay until tomorrow." I called. After that, everyone was quiet. We slowed our horses to a walk, and walked in a large circle, searching for a good spot to camp.

After a half hour, Aariana called us over to a large hill. "Here." She motioned to the hill. Both Eragon and I gave her a puzzled look.

"What?" asked Eragon. "Its out in the open, why would you want to camp here?"

I just looked at Aariana questioningly. I had already learned not to underestimate or question her. I could just keep my mouth shut, which happened to be a very good survival skill. It always took Eragon longer to learn vital skills such as this one.

"Watch and learn, love, watch and learn." She said. Pulling her sword from it's sheath, she waved it in Eragon's face. Then in one smooth, beautiful movement, she drove her sword into a crack in the sod that made up the hill. She slid her sword down, then pulled it out of the hill. Next, she grabbed a root sticking out of the hill, then pulled it. A small door opened, about three feet high. Aariana crawled inside. The rest of us followed.

Inside, was a cozy little cave. There was ample room for all of us. I looked around. A pile of fire wood, supplies, enough food for a week, bedding, and what appeared to be a box of weapons.

Eragon looked around, surveying the cave. Then he walked over to Aariana, who was starting a fire. "Where did you find this place?" he asked.

Aariana looked at him. "Eragon, that was a ridiculous question. Where do you think I found it?! In the Beors?! No, I found it here." She got up, grabbed some tubers, and put them in a pot of water. Then she picked Eragon's bow and his quiver of arrows, and thrust them into his hands. " Go get some food. Unless you want me to do the hunting along with everything else I do?"

"No. I'll get something." said Eragon, setting his face. "What do you want me to get?"

"Some thing big. A deer, maybe. Saphira eats a lot, so, get something big enough for all of us. Got it?" said Aariana, cutting some sort of vegetable up with a small dagger. Eragon just stood there and watched the dagger fly, cutting up the vegetables. Aariana turned and glared at him "Why are you still here? Go hunt!"

When Eragon didn't budge, Aariana got up, and kicked him in the knee. "Eragon! Do you want me to hunt myself, because I can and I will if you don't get to it." Eragon jumped up and got out of the cave. She went back to making dinner.

"You know it could be awhile until he gets back, right?" I said to Aariana. "I've never seen him hunt."

"I know. I actually still have some venison jerky here. I just sent him because he needs to do something." We were quiet for a few minutes. I just studied her. Her hair was not just copper, but auburn, red, and light brown. Like fire. Her eyes were a mixture of electric blue, and leaf green. Her skin was flawless. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I chided myself for thinking like this. _What would Tornac say?_ I thought. I would probably get a lecture about it. I continued studying her anyway. Her build was thin, lithe, and muscled. With my eyes, I followed her arm down, where her hand rested on her sword's hilt. That brought an interesting question into my mind. Where did she learn to sword fight? No one would apprentice a girl to be a swordsman, er, woman. So where did she learn?

"Aariana?" I asked, cautiously.

" Yeah, Murtagh?"

" Where did you learn to sword fight?"

Aariana turned around slowly and looked at me. I immediately regretted asking her that question. She hadn't wanted to tell her backstory to Eragon, why would I think that I would be any different. "N—no, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." I managed to stammer. " I'm sorr-" She held up her hand to shush me.

"It's all right. I was going to tell you guys anyway. A long time ago, I was about ten, Morzan was staying in the town I was in. Everyone wanted to see him. And they got to. He came striding through the street, his face proud and cruel. Someone threw something at him, and the crowd stared to curse at him and Galbatorix. In order to get the crowd under control, he grabbed the nearest child, which happened to be me, and pressed his sword, Za'roc to my throat. Everyone froze to spare the life of the little orphan girl he was holding. When he put me down, I spat in his face and cursed his name. He was furious, and in a blur, Za'roc was out again and slashing me, leaving gashes all over my body. I ran into a nearby alley. There, a man with a stern and kind face, picked me up and carried me to his home. He took care of me and healed my wounds. When I got better, he taught me how to survive one my own and to take care of myself. I stayed with him until I was eleven. Then, he sent me on my way with a sword, which happened to be my father's."

Aariana gave a bitter laugh. "They say you get scars to remind you about all the stupid things that you do. I guess its true." She rolled up her sleeve to show three long white scars. My eyes widened. I was horrified. And that was only three of them. How many more did she have? It was one thing to throw your sword at your son when you were drunk, but it was totally different to slash at a little orphan girl. My monster of a father had maimed her. Scarred her. No one would ever see past those long white scars that had been given to her by my father. He had sentenced her to a life in solitude.

We just sat there for a while. Silent, no one moving. I thought about the story she had just told me. I thought about my father, Aariana's bravery to curse at Morzan, the man who had rescued her.

"Aariana?" I asked, hoping that she would answer me.

"Yes?"

"Who was the man who rescued you?"

Aariana looked at me. "His name was Tornac." I gasped. She looked at me curiously, holding back the questions she wanted to ask.

"He raised me, practically. Taught me everything I know. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him." I said. She smiled gently, then went back to cooking.

" So, you're an orphan too." she said softly.

"Yeah." I answered. "My mother disappeared, my father was killed in a sword fight." At that moment, I wanted to smack myself. Why was I telling her so much? I had never told anyone things like this. When I praise myself about being so good at surviving and being so smart, I slip up and blab. Grrr, sometimes I hate myself.

"My parents were both killed on the same day, in a battle." said Aariana. My heart went out to her. Then I yelled at myself, _Murtagh! You're supposed to not like her! Remember?_ I clammed up.

After a while, I'm not sure how long, the door opened and Eragon walked in, carrying a cleaned and skinned deer. "I'm back." said Eragon, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Good." said Aariana, taking the deer from him. She sharpened her dagger and proceeded to cut up the deer. I went outside. Eragon followed. We climbed up on top of the hill.

"Eragon, do you really think that its worth taking her with us?" I asked. I felt a twinge inside myself. _Don't send her away. You like her._ Said one part of me, speaking truthfully.

 _Shut up._ I thought to the little sappy part of me that had a minor crush on her.

"I don't know. She's proved to be pretty useful." answered Eragon.

"Truthfully, Eragon. Just forget the fact that she's pretty." I said.

"Yes. I think that we should keep her with us." said Eragon, studying my face to see if I was serious. "Why don't you like her?"

"I do like her. I just don't know if she's worth taking care of." I said.

Eragon laughed. That bothered me a little bit. "You can't be serious, Murtagh. She's the one who's been doing the care-takeing."

I grumbled a bit, but was quiet. I looked up and studied the evening sky. Saphira was circling. She came closer and closer. Finally she landed. Eragon stood up and greeted her. He took the elven girl off the dragon's back and carried her inside. I stood up and followed. Aariana handed me a bowl of some good smelling soup. I took a spoon-full. Man, that was good stuff. I hadn't realized how hungry I was. It wasn't long before Aariana gave me two more servings.

After dinner we were all drowsy. We just sat down by the fire and talked about nothing in particular. After a bit, we came around to the subject of sword fighting. Then we got bored with just talking. Before I knew it, Za'roc was in Eragon's hands.

"Murtagh, I challenge you to a duel." He said in a dramatized voice. I raised an eyebrow.

"Fine then, just don't expect to win." I drew my sword.

"Oh, I don't expect _you_ to win. Me," said Eragon airily, "I'm not so sure." We stepped outside. Aariana came with us.

"On three." said Eragon "One… Two… Three!" I launched myself at the silly young Eragon. Ha, he thought he could beat me. Pffft. He ducked under me and got behind me. Tornac always told me that most swordsman have a blind spot behind them. You can defeat them from there. But he had developed a technique that forced you to bring your sword behind your back often, strengthening your muscles, so that it would be easy to block attacks from behind if needed. So, wrapping my arm around my body, my sword protected a lot of my back. Eragon's sword bounced off of mine. I whirled around.

We just dueled for a while. Then I noticed something. Aariana was fidgeting. Then, without warning, she exploded, her sword in her hand. Eragon was shocked, and fell backwards. She took the chance. When he scrambled to his feet, she kick-boxed him in the chest. He fell to the ground, trying to get his breath back. Then, Aariana turned to me. She had a big gleeful smile on her face. She ran at me, her sword flying behind her. Aariana leaped, and a roguish idea formed in my mind. This time, I would be the one to tease.

As she flew closer to me, the deadly reflexes that Tornac had drilled into me and honed, flew into action. My sword flew into my sheath, and my hands shot out. I wrapped my hands around Aariana's waist, which was small enough for my hands to encircle and touch each other. A look of shock spread across her face. I spun around and threw her to the side, hoping that I wasn't being overly faithful in her acrobatics and reflexes. Half way to the ground, she executed a perfect backflip and landed on her feet. Then Aariana sprang in front of me and her sword flew around my torso, leaving several long, shallow cuts. Again, my hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. I squeezed and twisted it, she gritted her teeth and tried to resist. With one final twist, her sword fell out of her hand and onto the ground. I released her. She jumped behind me, then onto me, wrapping her legs around my waist. She boxed my ears, then jumped off. I drew my sword, and swung at her. She jumped over it. Then she grabbed my sword arm and kneed me in the wrist. I doubled over in pain. She kicked my sword away. She wrapped herself around me in hand to hand combat. Grr, this had always been my weak point. We grappled and wrestled and actually rolled into the forest. Then after a while, she got on top of me and pinned me to the ground. This baffled me. How could she beat me, an almost full-grown man, when she was so light almost couldn't feel her lying on my chest? She smiled and got off of me. Aariana stood up, looking like an angel, a halo around her from the light of the newly risen moon. I quickly banished all these thoughts from my mind. No, she was not like an angel. She had nothing to do with me. And she definitely was _not_ my friend.

"Murtagh!" called Eragon, "Aariana!" He ran into the clearing. I scrambled to my feet. Eragon didn't have to get any ideas that we had been just lying on the ground, Aariana laying on my chest.

"There you are. You were getting really intense." He turned and waited for us to follow him back to the hill. I leaned down to pick up mu sword, when I felt a sharp, bright pain. I felt warm sticky liquid oozing in my shirt. I winced and try to stay silent, you can never let people know you're hurt. But I must of let it show, because Aariana was at my side.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I managed to choke out. I stumbled inside the hill. When I got inside, I collapsed on a stool.

Aariana grabbed a box of something. "Take off your shirt, Murtagh."

Absurd. Did she seriously think that I was going to take off my shirt in front of a girl I didn't know for over a day? Fat chance, Aariana. "No. I'm fine." Aariana looked at me dubiosly. She put her hand on my back. I yelped. She raised an eyebrow.

"Take off your shirt, Murtagh." This time, she said it so commandingly that she could have made an Urgal kowtow to her. I peeled off my shirt with some winces and squeaks. When I looked down, my torso was wrapped in long, bloody slices. I gasped. Aariana winced.

"Just, just stay still, Murtagh." She said. I prepared for some intense pain that I always associated with getting bandages. But none came. I felt Aariana pour some liquid into the cuts. I tensed. First, there was a burn, then a cold feeling in the cuts. Then, no feeling at all. I felt her smooth, cool hands sliding on my back, then on my chest, gently wrapping bandages around me. She told a story in a low, soft, gentle voice. Aariana's words were like a blanket, surrounding me in the magic of the story. Eragon lay on his belly in the bedding, his head in his hand, listening. Her hands still slowly wound the bandages around my torso.

I was amazed with her gentleness. When Tornac and I had been sparring, we always got beat up. His sister, who lived with him, had tended to us. She would pour something onto the cuts that would make them sting a lot, than painfully wrapped bandages. It hurt. A lot.

I felt my head nodding, and fatigue creeping in. I did nothing to fight it, just let Aariana's story wrap around me, lulling me to sleep. For a second, I thought it was my mother's voice from a long time ago, telling me a bedtime story. Aariana sounded like my mother. I kept the thought in my head, and let the magic of the story take me to sleep.

* * *

Aariana

By the time I had finished bandaging Murtagh, he was asleep. He fell backwards into my arms. I pulled him over to a cot and laid him down. I pulled his cloak over him. Quietly, I walked over to a cot and laid down. Should I tell them about myself? They seemed good and trustworthy. Murtagh was like me in many respects. I wouldn't call him a friend yet, but I think I could trust him. After all, he trusted me.

I looked over at him. Murtagh slept soundly. I smiled. That story had never failed me. My mother had told it to me every night when she had been alive. Even after a few sentences, younger Aariana had fallen asleep.

My gaze turned to Eragon. Even though I should have trusted him more, on the account of his being a Rider, I didn't. I have no idea why. I wanted to trust him, for him to be my friend. For both of them to be my friends, but it was unlikely. The only friend I had made since the death of my parents was Elieah. But she was long since dead. No one wanted to be friends with me. The girl with no parents, who stole to eat. The girl that carried a sword, and who had pointed ears. Then, once I got older, everything changed. I was considered maimed and disfigured. No one would get near me. No one would have me around. I wondered what Murtagh thought of me. I just stopped following this line of thought.

I tried to go to sleep. I tossed and turned, but couldn't. So got up slowly, and crept out the door. Being outside always helped. I looked up at the stars and moon. The stars, like diamonds, far, far away. The moon, huge, looking so close, yet being so far. The elvish part of me felt a stirring. Eerie strains of music, wafting up inside my head, pushed and clamored to be released to the world. I didn't deny them. I knew better than that. So I opened my mouth, and let them free. Music and magic that I couldn't control filled the clearing. I didn't know the words to whatever I was singing, but they were powerful, and magical. The still night air was suddenly stirred by a gentle breeze. The trees swayed gently. More magic, more of the ancient songs that were part of me.

After ten minutes, the songs slowed. I just sat down. Then, I heard a rustle behind me. Slowly, I turned around. There, laying behind me, was Eragon's great blue dragon, Saphira. I looked up at her.

 _Can you cast magic?_ She asked in my mind.

 _My parents could. The elvish part of me can, but I can't control it. I try to stop myself from using it, so I don't accidentally hurt someone one. But usually can't._ I answered.

Saphira looked around the clearing. She then looked down at me, the dragon equivalent of a gentle smile on her face. She lay her head down next to me. I lay back onto the ground, looking at the stars. My eyes drifted closed. Dreams and memories swirled under my eyelids. I fell asleep, the sounds of a dragon sleeping, leaves rustling, the world asleep.

Murtagh

When I woke up, I was lying on a cot, with my cloak laid over me. I didn't remember laying down there, or pulling my cloak over myself. Hmm.

I stood up. Eragon was still asleep. I didn't see Aariana anywhere. I looked down at myself. I was shirtless, and wrapped in bandages. I heard running water, like a brook. Following the sound, I walked down a narrow passage that I had to double over in. I came to a room that was big enough for me to stand up in. there was, in fact, a brook, leading to a small waterfall that led into a small dark cavern. But that wasn't what I was looking at. There was Aariana, her back to me. Her tunic wasn't on. I couldn't stop myself from looking. Her back was covered with a spider web of scars. I turned away and stole out of the room.

I couldn't stop thinking about her scars. How could someone be so fast with a sword to leave, how many scars? I counted them in my head. Seventeen. How did you become so fast that you could leave seventeen scars on someone? It was scary.

I came to the main room. Eragon was sitting up on his bed. "Morning." he said.

"Morning." I answered. I grabbed my shirt, which had been magically cleaned and dried, and pulled it over my head. Eragon stretched and stood up. He looked at me.

"How those cuts treating you?" He asked.

"I'll live." I answered, sitting down on a stool and bulling on my boots. I strapped on my shin guards, and forearm bracers. I pulled on my cloak and looked out the door that Eragon had left open as he went onside to greet Saphira. It felt strange outside. The air was too crisp and warm for a fall day. Strange flowers were growing in the grass, and the trees were blooming. Why were trees blooming in the fall? "Eragon?"

He tore his eyes away from his precious dragon long enough to look at me. He had learned that when I used this tone of voice, I was always meant something. "Yes?"

"Eragon, am I hallucinating, or are those trees blooming?" He looked up at the trees and his eyes widened. He looked around. Eragon had been so caught up in Saphira that he hadn't noticed that it felt and looked like a spring day. Smelt like one too.

"Hmm." murmured Eragon as he walked around the clearing, studying the forest around us.

"What?" I asked, following him around.

"It feels very faintly of magic here." He said. I raised an eyebrow.

"Magic?" I asked dubiously. Where did he get these ideas?

"Yes, and it didn't feel like that yesterday. Hmm." He stopped worrying about it, which I felt was a bad idea, but, oh well. I just stood there, daydreaming. The air was filled with rays of sunlight, and the smell of the flowers that weren't supposed to be there. Squirrels chattered in the forest, and birds sang. There was some puffy clouds in the sky, and swallows and swifts danced between them.

Then I thought of a dream I had had last night. I dreamed that I had heard the stars singing strange, eerie, beautiful, songs. They felt like magic. I had the feeling that some part of that dream had actually happened, and was tied to the spring-like appearance. "Eragon?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear something last night?" He looked at me.

"Yes. But I thought it was a dream." His brows furrowed.

"What did it sound like?" I asked. This day, though beautiful, was getting stranger and stranger.

Eragon turned towards me. "It sounded like strange singing, in some language that I didn't understand. Was that what you heard?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Just then, Aariana walked out towards us. She looked tired. Handing each of us a bowl of breakfast, she said "Morning." Aariana went and stood next to Saphira, rocking on her heels, humming a nice tune.

Whiles I ate, I studied Aariana. She was lean and thin. She had powerful muscles from years of working to stay alive. I followed the graceful line of her body down. She curved gently down to powerful legs, which were long. I compared her to the elf that Eragon was strapping onto Saphira. They both were long, thin, and well muscled.

"Can I touch her?" I heard Aariana ask. Eragon turned and smiled at her.

"Of course!" He said. "You're always welcome to." Aariana raised her hand, hesitated, the stroked Saphira's scales. She kept running her delicate-looking hands over the dragon's neck. A big smile spread across Aariana's face. Eragon caught it, because he gave me a grin. I had a feeling that I was grinning too. Then, all of a sudden, Aariana pulled her hand away from Saphira with a gasp. I walked over. She was staring at her hand amazedly. I looked. Her palm had a cut that ran from the base of her thumb to her little finger. Blood was dripping from her hand onto the ground. I started to rummage in my pockets for a bandage. But Eragon just knelt on the ground and motioned for Aariana to do the same. She sat down with her legs folded underneath her. Eragon took her hand, flipped it palm up, and put it in his. He glanced at her.

"Okay, I'm going to heal you. It might feel a little weird, so hold still, all right." he said to her. She nodded. I wished Eragon would hurry up. A lot of blood was dripping off her hand. Eragon closed his eyes and then said "Wais heaill." Aariana's hand stopped bleeding. When she wiped off the blood, her hand looked as good as ever. My eyes widened. Aariana's looked mildly amazed. She just let he hand lay in Eragon's for a bit, the pulled it away.

"Thank you." She said. Eragon stood up, and commenced with getting ready for the journey.

Aariana, Eragon, and I became friends. We would stop for the night, and eat some amazing dinners. Then we would hang out. I stopped trying to not like her, we had gone too far. And my stupid argument of her being too much trouble went down the drain. She was fantastic. Eragon grew on me too. He was like some sort of little brother, who, of course, had a dragon. Eragon also gave up on her. He wouldn't bother her, or be overly sweet to her. But, whiles she was friendly, years of being hated, unwanted, and unaccepted made her a little, strange. She didn't really know how to take things like compliments, surprises, and gifts. Aariana would smile, say thank you, but her eyes were full of confusion and pain, like as if she expected it to be a trick. Like she was afraid. She would also flinch if you raised a hand or you touched her. Once, I put my hand on her arm, and and she hand lashed out, grabbed my wrist, and almost broke it with her grip. I stifled a shout. When she saw it was me, a look of horror crossed her face, and she grabbed my wrist and rubbed it, saying she was sorry, her voice kept cracking. When I told her I was fine, she looked as if she could've died. It was reflex from years of being beaten and hit. Oh, I feel so sorry for her.

We were camped in a copse of trees. It was night, and the moon was full and hung overhead. We were laying down in the grass. Aariana was on watch, looking around, sitting on the ground and surveying the night with no sign of drowsiness. I watched her for a while, then drifted to sleep.

* * *

Aariana

I looked around into the night. It was very quiet. I had been here for five hours, even though I was only supposed to watch for two. I just wanted to give Eragon and Murtagh some rest. They deserved it, and needed it more than me. They would be mad at me in the morning, but so what? They would be rested.

We would be at the Varden if a few days. I was a bit scared. It had been a very long time since I had been there. Almost sixteen years. I'm not eve sure if I wanted to go back. There had been a battle, a horrible battle that shattered my life and threw the shards at me. I, wait, not I, young Aariana, the three year old one, the one that had no scars, who lived happily with her parents, had been on the battlefield when Morzan had slaughtered my parents. I still had nightmares about that. Morzan's smile when he ran his sword through my mother, and sliced my father in half. I stopped thinking about it.

I heard Saphira raise her head, I turned towards her. She looked down at me. _Go to sleep._

 _No, Saphira, I'm fine._ I answered.

 _No. Go to sleep. I will take watch. It will be fine. Now go._ Said Saphira, gently nudging me. I got up. Oh well.

Murtagh

My eyes slid open. I felt something warm next to me. Afraid to look, I turned my head. There, with arms wrapped around me, was Aariana. She was deeply asleep, her body pressed against me. A strange feeling ran through my body. I knew why she was doing this, from the way she would act towards us. She was just so starved of human contact, she needed to be in contact with someone. She shifted, pressing her forearms against my chest, and forcing me to sleep on my side, facing toward her. I looked down at her sleeping face, lit up by the light of the moon. Before I could stop myself, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to my chest. I surprised myself. I had never acted out of impulse before, especially towards a woman. What was wrong with me? Since when did I have a part of me that told me what to do to Aariana. This bothered me. I wanted to have control of myself. But, despite this, I kept my arms around her. One: so she wouldn't wake up. Two: it felt good to have her in my arms. Her hair smelled sweet and clean, like a flowery meadow. The soft pattern of her gentle breathing made me sleepy. I remembered being with my mother as a baby, sleeping with her, hearing her heartbeat, the pattern of her breathing. Aariana so reminded me of me mother. I loved her. My mother, that is, not so much Aariana. Well, I liked Aariana, but differently. She sighed in her sleep, and pressed against me more. I could now feel her heartbeat. I was sleepy, so sleepy. I closed my eyes, and let myself drift into a deep sleep, filled with peaceful dreams.

My eyes opened. It was dawn, colored light seeping from the horizon, bleeding into the sky. The few birds that lived around here started to chirp. I took a deep breath. Today wasn't going to be bad, I just knew it. I just lay there for a minute. Then I looked down at Aariana, sleeping in my arms. She was still asleep. I pushed the hair out of her eyes. I would of never had done this, seeing as it was a stupid thing to do when I thought back on it. Her eyes fluttered open. Aariana looked up at me,then at the trees around us. She scrambled away and sat up. I sat up too. She started to apologize.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Murtagh." She sounded truthfully sorry. "I didn't mean to."

"Its alright." I answered. I paused for a good thirty seconds or so. "How long have you been alone?" I asked. She gave me a strange look.

"Since I was three." Aariana answered, not ceasing the look that she was giving me.

"How old are you now?" I had the feeling I would get some sort of whopping number in asking this.

"Nineteen." Just as old as me. I did the math. Sixteen years, that was a long time. Just a few years of solitude could make someone hungry for contact, but sixteen years! I had healed some people that were like that, but I wasn't sure if I could Aariana. "Why do you ask?" she said.

"Well, you've been alone such a long time that you're mind really wants contact with other people. That's why you subconsciously rolled against me." A worried look spread across her face. "Don't worry, though. Its easy to fix it." Aariana looked at me, her face relaxing. She looked over at Eragon, who was still asleep. Then she looked at Saphira, then to me. "Okay, fix me."

"Uh, its a gradual process. It will take a few weeks." I said stretching. Aariana stayed silent. She looked tired. "Aariana?"

"Yes?"

"Did you take all the watches again?" For the last two days, she had been staying up all night, taking all the watches and letting us sleep, at her expense. She looked guilty, and the grass in front of where she was sitting cross-legged was suddenly very interesting.

"Yes." Aariana said. "Well, most of them. Saphira took some of the last ones." I sighed.

"You better stop that." I said Eragon sat up. He looked over at us. He yawned and stretched.

"How many days are we away from the Varden?" asked Eragon.

"Two days" Aariana and I said in unison. We glanced at each other. "Well, the day after tomorrow's morning. That's if we don't encounter any complications." Said Aariana. Eragon groaned and got up. He eyed the horses saddles with some disdain. I did not blame him. He wasn't the only person that was getting blisters from riding so long. Eragon strode over to Saphira and pressed his forehead against hers. She rumbled in her throat, a very fast and vibrating purr.

Aariana stood up and walked over to her horse. After a bit of rummaging around, she tossed me some rock-cakes. I reached my hand out to catch them, but Eragon intercepted the cakes and started munching on my breakfast. He grinned at me. "Good catch, Eragon." Said Aariana with a laugh. She tossed me some more, and I leapt to forwards to catch them.

I ate them quickly, whiles I got ready to ride.

The horses were restless as Saphira, who was stretching like a cat, moved around. They nickered and pranced frantically in place, every once in a while rearing up and whinnying. Aariana rushed over to the panicking animals. She grabbed Snowfire, Eragon's horse, by the lead so that he bought all four hooves to the ground. Then she pressed his muzzle into her shoulder, so that her mouth was close to his ear. She began to whisper to Snowfire in a calm, soft, gentle voice. He froze. When she stopped whispering, he stayed calm and quiet. I am firmly convinced that Aariana is magic. I've never seen anyone so good with animals. She could catch a bird with her hands, if she tried. Eragon watched her. Aariana crouched down to adjust the straps of the saddle on her mare, Aelena. She, along with her mount, was beauty. She was a black horse, with a mane of black springy curls. Muscles rippled under the dark, velvety coat. Aariana stroked her head, running her hands over the white star on the horse's forehead. The mare whinnied appreciatively.

The sun was now hovering well over the horizon, it's light spilling across everything. I grabbed several handfuls of dirt from a bare patch in the ground, and tossed them onto the dying coals. I climbed on my horse, Cadoc, which had previously been Eragon's horse. But when Brom died, Eragon took Snowfire, and gave Cadoc to me to ride. He was a chestnut stallion, with black stockings and a white blaze down his face. A good horse, strong, and moderately fast, but nothing compared to the speed and beauty of Aelena or Snowfire. Aariana untied the horse's leads, and mounted Aelena. We rode off towards the Varden.

Urgals! They were running fast towards the direction of the Varden. We had been watching them. But, at the moment, that wasn't our problem. Our problem was the slaver advancing at us. He was walking at a steady pace, cornering us. This would be a trouble, as you probably can well see. I normally wouldn't have made such a big deal about it,but I had unfortunately grown very attached to my companions. They had to stay safe. His hands would be no match for my hand-and-a half sword. I ran at him. His fist lashed out and caught me in the face. Darn. Blood dripped into my eyes,blocking my view. I wiped blood out of my eyes. I slashed. The slaver's head came cleanly off, and rolled onto the ground. The headless body keeled over. The head came to a stop at Eragon's feet. He stared at it, his face unable to read.

"Why did you do that!" Eragon shrieked at me, furiously. "He was defenseless!" I was shocked. He could be so naive sometimes.

"Don't you understand?!" I yelled at him. "If he had caught us, he would've enslaved us. It might not be such a big deal to you, but I was protecting us! I was protecting _you_!" Blood was dripping down my face in a stream. Aariana was standing calmly, watching, holding her tongue. Eragon continued.

"You didn't have to kill him! You could've just stunned him!" he yelled. He didn't understand.

"If I had thought like that, I would have been dead a long time ago! I don't like to kill people, but sometimes you have to! Thats why you're going to the Varden, aren't you? To kill people. And think of what would happen if you didn't kill the Urgals that we have met, if you hadn't killed them, we would all be dead, you, me, Aariana." I stopped to take a breath, and when I looked at Eragon's face, I knew I had hit a soft spot. "And sometimes, some people deserve to die."

"No one deserves to die." Eragon growled.

"Oh really? If I'm not mistaken, you were hunting Ra'zac to _kill_ them before I met you." I said nastily. He glared at me.

"I wish you hadn't come with me."

I laughed. "You would be dead without me. Your dragon too. I have protected you, helped you, fed you, but you think you did it. I have kept you alive. I spent time with you, and grew fond of you. I was trying to protect you from going into slavery. I have sat in a slavers cage, and I don't want it to happen to you. It can't happen. We can't be caught, because there will be no one to rescue us. They will beat you, sell you, and you will spend the rest of your days, haunted by Alagäesia's fate if you had just killed one little slaver. But especially you and Aariana can't be caught." Aariana gave me a curious look. "You are the fate of Alagäesia, and Aariana will be beaten and sold to someone as a I-don't-know-what. So, theres my alibi. You know what will happen, so don't let it." I wiped the blood off my face and stomped away.

Aariana looked at Eragon, to me, Eragon, to me. She walked over to me. I glanced up at her, trying to stem the blood flow with my hands, but it wasn't working. That slaver must of hit a vein or something, because the blood would not stop. Aariana sat down next to me with a sigh. "You didn't have to be so hard on Eragon." she said, moving my hand and putting a bandage on the cut.

"Yes, I did. He can't be thinking that way. He'll get himself killed, and thats the last thing we need, especially since he's the fate of the Varden." I said.

"Well, he's supposed to think like that. Thats a Rider's job, to keep peace and to keep violence to a minimum." She had a point.

"Okay, yes, maybe he's supposed to think like that, but maybe in a few years. Not right now. He'll get himself killed." I was deep inside afraid of that.

" Murtagh, you did the right thing, to kill him. But, you should think about it just a little bit more."


End file.
